The School for Youths of Great Potential
by CrikitCuzIAm
Summary: An alternate Kingdom Hearts timeline. Sora and Riku's island home has been destroyed by a violent storm shortly after Sora reveals the ancient relic, the Keyblade. Once the church of the Organization XIII discovers his ability to wield the Keyblade, they give him a referral to attend the SYGP, a school which trains legends. Sora searches for his origins, and is faced by trials.
1. Chapter 1: Unrest

_"Sora!"_

_ "Riku!"_

_ "Pull me onto the boat!"_

_ "I can't reach your hand!"_

_ "Sora!"_

_ "Riku!"_

_ The boat shifts suddenly under Sora's feet, picked up by the swelling of the waves, and the boy flies backwards, cracking his head on the stern-most wooden bench. His vision grows blurry, then black…_

_ Hot sun beating down, going days without water. Why had he grabbed that giant key? Almost chucking it overboard. If he'd left it Riku would still be…still be…_

_ "Sora!" Winds rushing, debris flying. He'd stayed behind to make sure the others made it to the boats. One boat left._

_ "Riku!" _Why didn't my boat capsize? Where are the others?

_ "Pull me onto the boat!" Waves overwhelming, rising, trees screaming and whipping—_

_ "I can't reach your hand!"_

_ "Sora!" _

"Riku!" Sora bolted upright in bed, breathing hard. No! He had been so close this time! So…close…With a whimper, Sora curled up, clutching his head in his hands. It didn't matter if he'd made it this time or not. Riku was gone. Sora had abandoned him.

The boy's hands began trembling, and when he could no longer contain himself, he allowed quiet streams of tears to trickle down his cheeks and onto the sheets. Gradually, his shudders and suppressed sobs began to subside, and Sora sat up, leaning against the wall his bed was backed up to. He closed his eyes, listening. If he had woken up Mister again, he'd feel awful, but not worse than if he'd woken up Missus. She'd been so kind to him the last few nights, coming in with a grape soda or two. He couldn't remember how she figured those were his favorite.

Exhaling long and slow to steady his breath, Sora rested his head on his knees. He was the only survivor that he'd heard about from Destiny Island; the other islands that had severe weather had had few more. But why him? There had been other boats that had left the island, Riku had made sure of it. Where had they gone? The doctors who had examined him after his rescue reassured Sora that he was a lucky one, having been adrift for only four days and having but a few light abrasions and dehydration to show for it. Only four days. His eyes welled up and leaked over, imagining if any of the other survivors were still out there, trapped on those cramped little boats and starving…only four days for him, but now it had been two weeks.

What was interesting about the boy is that he did not blame the mainland—though they had failed to send the evacuation ships in time—nor did he blame the villagers—though they had ignored the warnings of the impending storm. No, what the boy did instead was think of the last moments where his fingers brushed against him companion's, about how he shrank back when a shard of wood flew at his arm and sliced through his skin. Sora flexed his fingers and stared at the peeling scab. It was hardly deep or painful, but he'd used it as an excuse to lose his friend. That wasn't the only thing Sora resented. With full disgust, he glared at the glinting metal key which lay propped up in the corner of the room. That was the oversized thing he had snatched from his small, one roomed hut. He'd been carrying it in both arms when he'd vaulted into the boat. Instead of grabbing Riku by the arm and forcing him to safety. This hulk of metal.

And Riku thought that it meant Sora was destined for great things! He'd been jealous of Sora's find, and tried to find one of his own! Why did this convince Sora that this key was more important than his friend's life…? Ashamed, Sora buried his face in his knees again. He'd have to get rid of it. Mister wanted him to find a job now that Sora was becoming a burden to his family, and this meant Sora leaving the house for the first time. And this meant very clearly to Sora that it had to be the last time he would see this key.

"I certainly won't give him a referral. I refuse." Sora opened his eyes blearily to the sound of an argument from downstairs.

"Darling, have pity on the boy. He doesn't know anyone on the mainland, and he has no family—"

"Hardly an excuse! I know everything I need to know about him: Sora is lazy and unreliable. Just look at the time, it is well past noon!" At that, Sora winced and peeked at the clock. Overslept. Again. Not wanting to cause further strife within the household that had volunteered for his sake, Sora struggled to dress quickly. There weren't many homes open to refugees, especially one that contained a family. It was almost as if he had a real fam—…Well, Sora had never been without companions and comfort, and since he had washed up on the shore of Destiny Island in a beaten up bassinet, the island had been like a family to him in its entirety. Especially Riku. Once he had discovered their similar ages, he had pressed Sora for any kind of details about life off the island. Sora regretted not being able to tell him more.

"I'm up!" Sora called, then tripped over himself as he mistakenly tried to force both feet into the same leg of his shorts. At the sound of Sora's "Oof!" and the thud of his body hitting the ground, an audible sarcastic moan emanated from the ground floor.

Sora heard something along the lines of "Don't know why we even—" before he bounded down the stairs, skipping three at a time with his long stride. "I'm-I'm up," he panted, offering a smile. Missus returned it, but Mister gave him a cold look.

"Job, got it," Sora gave him a double thumbs up. "I'm on my way!" The door fell closed behind him with a distinct slam, and Sora could hear the argument resuming. He grimaced with guilt, knowing that the whole thing was overwhelmingly his fault. But, as he shifted the weight of the sheet bound key to his shoulder, Sora hoped he could ease some of that fault today.

This was not the first time that the boy had been driven to find work, as it was a common complaint on the island about his state of being. Sora had taken it optimistically as concern for him, and was eager to become a productive member of island society. However, as he was shifted from one occupation to the next, each employer seemed to have the same things to say about him. While he had "energy" and a "desire to please," the boy was "incurably lazy, easily bored, and distracted." He was "prone to dreaming" and "asking unnecessary questions," though at the same time was "simple minded" or even "not of this world." The last was the kindest of the criticisms Sora received, who instead spent his time fishing for his food, whittling and making up songs and stories of adventuring heroes. For this he was great entertainment to Riku, who patiently endured Sora's ramblings and trailings in a tale as long as Sora enthusiastically answered his pressings for details. Truth be told, though the boy was miserable at holding a job, Sora had an advanced and expansive imagination. Riku took full advantage of this, having such a longing for a greater world, and an inclination to get into trouble that would sometimes need lying out of.

It was amazing now to Sora to see this large, bustling town and to think of the quietness of the island. It hardly got this hectic during festival time, let alone an average day, and now Sora was navigating through it somewhat nervously. Most of the crowd had their head bowed and were rushing off to what seemed to be a very important item on their agenda, not making eye contact and certainly not smiling. It took Sora a moment to become accustomed to seeing unfamiliar faces, especially scowling ones, but soon he did, and grew comfortable enough to adopt his broad, swaggering walk and whistle a merry tune. In the daylight, the town was magnificent, he saw. There were shops built on the roofs of other shops, roads lined with buildings packed with people, and an old black church building. It was the latter which caught Sora's attention, as it seemed out of place amidst the general business of the area. He approached it slowly, suddenly filled with apprehension. The steeple was tall and gangly, arched like a crow's beak, while the rest of the building seemed unusually uneven. There was no one coming in or out of its dark mahogany doors, and though there was no light in the window, Sora felt certain that people were inside because of a faint humming sound. He crept over the rose bushes in the garden and up to the long front window, attempting to peer inside. "Huh?" Sora withdrew his hand and found it covered in soot. Someone had tinted the windows. With a more than peaked curiosity, Sora struggled to haul himself up onto the ledge of the window, when suddenly the package he was holding began to vibrate violently. Crying out, Sora released both it and the ledge, landing sorely in a patch of thorns. He groaned, and gingerly picked apart the twigs which bound him. Once he had made his way back over to where he had dropped the bundle, Sora found that the key had freed itself almost entirely from his crude wrappings, and was now shivering uncontrollably.

Without being able to explain it, Sora felt a twinge of empathy for the thing, and knelt down next to it in an effort to console it, ignoring a nagging feeling that this was pointless to do to a piece of metal. "Hey, it's okay, calm down," and he picked it up by its interior handle. "Re-…relax…" It was the first time Sora had lifted the key in this way, and all at once the vibrating stopped. A sense of warmth spread from the handle to his fingertips, along his arm and resting somewhere deep within his chest. In spite of himself, Sora felt the corners of his mouth twitching, and he smiled. He began to admire the length of the silver shaft of the key and its golden hilt. It was lightweight, despite its size, and could conceivably be used…as a weapon…? Testing this theory, Sora gave the key a few practice swings. The shaft sung beautifully through the air, leaving Sora grinning as the warm sensation extended to his face and cheeks, making him laugh out loud. He then became aware that someone on the stairs of the church was watching him.


	2. Chapter 2: An Invitation

The man was dressed entirely in black with a large, shadowy hood obscuring his face. He was in a stunned position, and was very evidently staring at Sora. A chill shot through the key, and Sora took an involuntary step back. "H-hey! I don't like weird guys staring at me, so knock it off!" he snapped, trying to sound brave enough to be threatening, but the man slowly lifted one arm and pointed to Sora, who raised the key in front of him defensively. The man murmured one word: "Keyblade."

"Wha…?" Sora cocked his head, lowering his guard, "This?" He held the key up a little higher, but this seemingly insignificant action severely alarmed the hooded man. He wheeled around, screaming madly.

"Keyblade! This kid's got a Keyblade!" At that, figures in hoods came pouring out of all exits of the building. They arrived in a massive swarm which nearly overtook Sora, but paused a respectable distance away. One man stood at a balcony, high above the heads of the others. In a low, bass voice, he muttered, "After him." Immediately the cloaks pressed towards Sora, who cried out and took off in the opposite direction.

It occurred to Sora to relinquish the key in order to save his skin, but the warming sensation had begun again, and it filled him with something that had the semblance of courage. No, he would not give in. He had to escape. With this newfound determination, Sora darted towards a stack of crates that leaned against a nearby hat shop. One hand still clinging to the key, he wrestled his way up the boxes, finally hurling himself onto the roof and racing away. The cloaked figures, being heavier, were not able to follow suit as the unsturdy crates cracked under their weight.

In spite of his mounting fear, Sora couldn't help but laugh at the attempts of the cloaks to leap up the sides of buildings while still maintaining pace with him. With his free hand, he pulled the corner of his mouth and stuck out his tongue, hearing gasps and cries of frustration. He was going to get away! He could see the edge of the town! There was no way they could catch him now, and he was barely—Ack!

Sora's foot suddenly caught in the straw matting of a building that uniquely, did not use tile roofing. Rather than appreciating this, Sora flailed his arms madly, trying to keep his balance, but the roof was not equipped to support even his weight, and when he lost the battle against gravity, Sora came crashing through the surface. He hit the floor with a groan, rolling onto his side and clutching his stomach.

"Oh! Ah, nice to see you, lad, (a little early, I might add) but, ah, may I inquire…" Sora opened his eyes weakly, his head spinning and trying to catch his breath. There was an old man standing above him with an impossibly long beard who was holding a lantern up to Sora's face. "That is the Keyblade, is it not?"

Sora nodded feebly, even though he was not quite certain himself. The old man picked him up by the shoulders with surprising strength, then sat him down on a stool Sora could have sworn wasn't there before. It wasn't until the old man conjured a red plush sitting chair out of thin air that Sora found his voice again. "You're a wizard!" he yelped, scooting backwards, then winced as his head throbbed. The old man chuckled.

"Yes, and a dashing good one, I must say!" He sat back in his chair, calling forward a cup of steaming tea and a biscuit. "Cream or sugar?"

"Hold on, wait, I can't stay here! There are these guys, they're after me, they'll see where I fell, they'll come here and—"

"You have approximately four minutes and thirty-six seconds before they arrive," he responded quietly. "In the meantime, I would very much like to explain a thing or two to you."

Sora slowly sat back into his chair. An explanation was more than welcome.

"Your name?"

"Sora."

"That's all?"

"I never had a family."

"Never?"

"That's right."

"Interesting…" the old man leaned backwards, placing his slender fingers together with a thoughtful look on his face. He stayed silently like this for a time, and Sora grew impatient.

"Look, if I've only got four minutes and thirty-six seconds—"

"Three minutes, forty-five, now."

"Right, okay, that," Sora tried to mask his exasperation. "I'd really like to hear—"

"Oh, and it's Merlin, by the way," the old man said suddenly. "And it would be more appropriate for you to introduce yourself as 'Master Sora,' I think."

"Master?" Sora repeated, skeptical but intrigued.

"That Keyblade is yours, correct?"

"Well, I found it. I guess it could be someone else's," Sora mused, then realized, "Hey, is that why those guys want it back? Is it theirs?" The old wizard laughed again, but this time not so warmly.

"No no no no, the Keyblade has never belonged to the Church. But I daresay, they'd like it to. Whatever you do, keep it safe. Especially from them."

Sora held the key up to his face, noticing that in the dimly lit hut that it was glowing faintly. "Keyblade," he said to it softly, and the familiar warmth pulsed in response. "Why are they after you, huh? What's so special about you?"

Merlin leaned forward in his seat, the light emanating from the Keyblade making his many wrinkles more pronounced with shadows. "It has many secrets waiting to be brought out by the True Keybearer. Many have tried to coax it to be theirs, but their hearts were not pure. They were consumed by their lust for power, and were lost to the darkness." Sora looked up with concern, meeting the old man's eyes.

"What does this thing do, exactly?" he asked with trepidation.

"It is the key to every heart," Merlin muttered mysteriously, then extracted a scroll of paper from his sleeve. As he unrolled it, the edges cracked and crumbled. "_I am that thou are. The beginning and the end._" In a puff of dust, the scroll vanished, and Merlin looked very seriously at Sora. "I can only tell you what I have seen throughout my history: the Keyblade is a dangerous weapon. When it was forged in a time no one can remember, there was but light in the world. But when the Keyblade was discovered to open every heart, even that of the World, a shadow was cast on the hearts of all men who saw it. They desired this control beyond reason, growing jealous and angry, even fighting wars for the ownership of the Keyblade. Their hearts became black, and their eyes blinded against the light. Therefore was evil brought into the World. Evil, and Malefi—"

"Open up, old man! We know you've got the boy in there!" Someone was pounding loudly and violently on the door, threatening to break it down.

"Oh, balderdash," cursed the old wizard, "Seventeen seconds early, too." With a wave of his hand, the door flew open, and three hooded men stumbled in.

"I was in the middle of tea with my young friend here," said the wizard haughtily, standing up. "I had better hope this is important."

"We're not gonna lay a finger on you, old man, got it memorized? We're just here for the kid."

"By my beard, I should say not! The boy is staying with me, if I have anything to say about it!"

The tallest of the hooded figures snorted. "Look, we know your rules, old man. You can't cast a spell that would harm another being, we know that."

Sora took a step in front of Merlin, grip tightening on the handle of the Keyblade. "Leave him alone," he said in a low voice.

"Heh, the kid's got guts!"

Merlin rested a firm hand on Sora's shoulder to keep him from advancing.

"Maybe I haven't made myself clear. The boss had got something pretty special for your little friend here, and he'd like to hand it over to him, so _hand him over."_

"I say, no!"

"You want that face of yours to stay pretty, _old man?!_"

"I hope you've had your fun in _human_ form, _pig!_"

"What!"

The tall hooded man produced a spiked wheel from under his cloak and twirled it around his fingers menacingly. Having enough of it, Sora elbowed off Merlin's hand and forced his way in between the arguing men.

"Alright, listen to me! I'll take whatever it is you've got for me, but then you gotta leave us alone, okay!" he shouted, and the Keyblade flashed brightly, causing everyone to take a step back. "I am NOT going with you!"

One of the hooded figures nodded to the tall one briefly, who produced an envelope from his pocket and held it out to Sora. "This might change your mind."

Sora struggled to make out the fancy handwriting on the return address until Merlin took the envelope into his own hands. "The SYGP…?" he breathed. "You don't mean that he's been…?"

"Invited," bowed the tallest of the trio. "Courtesy of the Church of the XIII." Faltering, Merlin took a step back and collapsed into his armchair, clearly flustered.

"Whadaya say, kid? You coming?" the tallest one nodded his head at Sora who looked to Merlin for advice.

"I-I'm not going with you," he repeated uncertainly, but Merlin shook his head.

"Allow me some time alone with the boy. I'll explain to him." The old wizard looked tired, and waved the three out of the room. They complied, but left with the unmistakable air of victors.

"I hadn't foreseen this," Merlin muttered to himself, covering his face with one hand. "Go on, sit back down."

"What happened?" asked Sora shakily, feeling as if he had once again done something wrong. Merlin, who had returned to his cup of tea, looked up at Sora and smiled sadly.

"You have been referred by the Church of the XIII to attend the greatest training school of our time," his gaze fell and he resumed stirring his tea slowly. "Those who study there become…legends." Sora's eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face.

"Then this is great, right? I can learn how to use the Keyblade properly and stuff!"

"Yes, if they can teach you that…" Merlin said wistfully. "And they have the most fantastic of libraries, too…"

Not that Sora was all that fond of reading, a task that came to him with difficulty, but the mention of the-most-fantastic-of-anything was bound to excite the boy. "Aww, man, this is _great! _I can leave the house, I won't be a burden to Mister or Missus, and I can—"

"Aha, that's it! The pay, how will you pay for tuition, eh?" the wizard jumped up triumphantly, but his enthusiasm fell when he saw the expression on Sora's face. "But, ah, I suppose…I suppose I could help you with that…at the beginning."

"Aw, nah, don't worry about it," Sora shrugged and faked a grin. "Who wants to go to a boring school, anyway?" He felt a knot rising in his throat, and got up, beginning to back away. "I gotta go. Y'know, got to run errands and stuff."

"Sora, perhaps I was—"

"Don't worry about it!" shouted Sora miserably, then took off running out the door. There was the impending smell of rain hanging in the air, and the streets were cleared, even of the cloaks. For a moment, what had he believed? That he was meant for something greater? That he would be able to find his friend? Even his family…?

The cloud burst overhead, and as Sora slowed down, allowing himself to become drenched, he thought regretfully of the hole he had punched through Merlin's roof. He supposed it wouldn't be much of a hassle for a wizard to fix, but he still imagined the old man forgetting that he had left it there and getting his seat cushions ruined. He approached the steps leading up to the house that had taken him in, and tried to wipe his muddy feet clean on the rug, though it seemed to only be spreading it around. Before he could open the door, it had swung wide with a beaming Missus framed in its interior. Seeing the pathetic figure on her front step, Missus reached out and pulled Sora into a hug. He accepted it, hugging her back tightly. It was too much, too much. He'd lost everything, and now that he'd thought he could get it back, it was lost to him again. Sora found himself leaking tears onto Missus' shoulder, and pulled back, wiping his nose against his gloves. "I-I'm sorry," he murmured, but Missus shook her head.

"Why don't you tell me all about it, hun?" she said gently, coaxing him inside.

Sora had spilled everything, about Merlin, about the Church of the XIII, and about the key and letter. He handed over the soggy, dripping envelope, while Missus poured grape soda into a glass, thoughtfully. "The School for Youths of Great Potential," she read aloud. "That really is something, Sora." He shrugged, and drew his still muddy feet up with him on the kitchen chair. "Hmm, how ever will we afford to send you?"

"You won't. I'm not becoming a greater burden to this family," Sora said firmly.

"Oh, but you simply must go! Think of all you've told me, and you may even—" The door opened and closed with a slam.

"Who the blazes tracked mud all over the foyer? Aha, a trail! Let us see where it leads, shall we!" Sora groaned and thunked his head against the kitchen table.

"You! Of course you are perpetrator! Where are you working, then?"

"He is not employed yet, darling, but see—"

"Not employed? Not employed! We shall see who eats under my roof who is not employed!"

"_See, _darling!" And Missus shoved the letter directly under Mister's nose, making the large seal on the back quite easy to distinguish. "He has been offered a scholarship." Sora's head bolted up right. What scholarship?

"A scholarship you say…" the man frowned and went to find his spectacles in his pocket, but seemed to have misplaced them. He was, however, able to distinguish the letters SYGP. "Why, that's quite a hefty price tag."

"But think, if the boy has a scholarship, learning a trade—"

"Being a legend, is that really a trade?" scoffed Mister, though he seemed to be steadily more convinced.

"And he would be out of the house."

"Ah, well, I think I've had a splendid idea, then! Send him off, far away; let him do what he pleases! Then collect the subsidy we earn from keeping a refugee. That's all there is to be done, darling," Missus feigned protest. "That is all. Good night."

As Mister strolled up the stairs, Missus daintily placed the spectacles she had been concealing behind her back on the table. Sora stared at her incredulously. "Missus," he said hoarsely, "I don't have a scholarship."

"No," she replied coolly. "But I'll think of a way."

"But what if Mister—"

"You leave my hot-headed husband up to me. We have been married some twenty-five years or so, I should know a thing or two about him by now." Sora buried his face in his hands, fighting the urge to cry once again. "Get an education, Sora," she smiled, when suddenly, a loud rapping on the window made them both jump. A somewhat distressed looking owl was perched on the sill, a letter in its beak and a cross expression on its face. Once Missus had opened the window and removed the scroll, it puffed up its feathers indignantly, squawked an ironic "Good day to you, too, madam!" and fluttered off into the rain.

Missus handed the scroll to Sora, who found his name written on it in long, sprawling blue ink. He unrolled it, and read:

_My dear, Sora,_

_Sorry about the scare, old chap. Might have been a little too quick tempered on my behalf. Why not consider this a loan then, eh?_

_-M_

A small note fluttered to the ground which read as an IOU for the amount of munny the school had requested, and on the back said in the same blue ink: _I do expect this refunded in full._

Sora looked up at Missus, nodding slowly. "I'll go."


	3. Chapter 3: Arrival

((Special thanks to superstoyboi124 for helping me with the creation of TJ!))

Missus applied another glob of gel to her hand and pressed it against Sora's head, attempting to flatten the rebellious spikes that refused to slick down. "I think I've—Ah, not again," she sighed as the determined cowlick sprang back to its desired position. Sora gave her an apologetic smile. "Unruly thing," she tutted, then, shrugging, replaced the gel tube into the kitchen drawer.

"I suppose you'll have to go like this, then," she stood him back and took a good look at him. Her eyes raced over his thin waistline, his tired eyes, and the deep, dark circles that pooled under them. Missus could no longer deny the powerful, matronly concern she had for the boy she had visited in the hospital some weeks ago. She was worried for him. Truly. It would have been just as distressing as if it were her son, TJ, who were now standing before her, getting ready to train for battle combat and heaven knows what other horrid dangers.

"Are you okay, Missus?" Sora could see the misty eyed look she was giving him, and she immediately wiped her eyes and flashed a happy face.

"I think I'll come to miss you, that's all," she replied nonchalantly, and had to stop herself from taking the young boy into her arms again by turning around. "I suppose I'll fetch the boys now."

"You too," Sora murmured quietly, and though Missus pretended not to hear, her heart sang for the thought of her little island boy's affection. Poor dear.

"I'm coming!" sounded a preemptive cry from up stairs, and the pitter-patter of feet heralded the approach of the small, mousy haired son of Mister and Missus. He could not possibly think to hide his enthusiasm, and had even picked out a new pair of driving gloves for the event. "I can't wait!"

"Both of your are ready, then?" Missus asked worriedly, not quite prepared to allow them to leave.

"I'm ready to drive," affirmed TJ, giving his mother two thumbs up to show off his new gloves. He looked sunnily at Sora. "Don't worry, Pops has been teaching me to drive Gummies for years! Since I was a little boy!" Both Missus and Sora bit the insides of their cheeks, clearly still believing the ten-year-old to be a little boy. But, seeing as Sora had never operated a Gummy ship before and Mister was refusing to take him himself, Missus had to allow the two of them off. Missus had wanted so very much to have been able to go along, but Mister had insisted that she attend her weekly neighborhood meeting in order to "keep good face" with their acquaintances. After all, what if they were to discover that his family could only afford their affluent style of living because of the stipend given to them for their "volunteer" work?

It was through a glassy eyed hazy that Missus watched her dear boys take off, and she clenched her fist against her side. She would find out what excuse Mister had not to say good-bye to Sora. She would demand it.

Sora hadn't spent much time with TJ before then; Mister had always tried his best to keep the two separated. He also felt the need to remind TJ of grubby little island boys who snatched naughty boy's playthings when they didn't listen to their papa. But TJ didn't seem bothered by Sora's presence at all. Rather, once the ship was in the air, he kept casting expectant glances over in Sora's direction. Sora avoided eye contact, until TJ spoke.

"I don't hate you, you know," he said matter-of-factly, and Sora gave a start.

"You don't, seriously?!" Sora exclaimed, then caught himself. "I mean, that's cool. I don't hate you, too."

Silence where the controls of the Gummy ship hummed gently. "Your dad doesn't like me much, though…" Sora added after awhile.

"He doesn't like most people," TJ offered, little to Sora's comfort. "Sora?"

"Uh-huh?"

"What did you mean last night when you said 'he rent his head'?"

Sora flushed, remembering that last night, in his excitement, he had been enthusiastically reenacting a scene from one of his favorite stories with the Keyblade. "It's just a phrase," he said, clearly embarrassed that TJ could hear him through the walls. "It means that he cut it off."

"It sounds thrilling!" the little boy mused out loud. "What a wonderful way to save the princess!"

"Not exactly," Sora shook his head. "The poor ogre was just trying to feed his family. Now they'll starve without their father, and they have no one to protect them from scary knights."

TJ grew pensive, staring ahead at the clouds whipping by the windshield. "You are right. Wasn't so clever after all. But how else to save the princess?"

Sora let his head fall back against the seat, thoughtfully. "You ever wonder what makes a heart light or dark?"

"Huh?"

"Like the ogre. Would his heart be dark or light?"

"Well," TJ struggled uncertainly. "Perhaps a bit of both?"

"If there's light in someone's heart," Sora said decisively. "They can see better about these things."

"What does that mean…?"

"I dunno," Sora shrugged, placing his hands behind his head and reclining further. "But I bet if he'd talked to the ogre. Things might have been different."

"I like you, Sora."

"I like you, too, kiddo."

They spoke little for the rest of trip, mentioning their favorite foods now and again, but feeling as though need not speak much. Both had smiles on their faces.

The two boys stood outside the tall, imposing gates of the School for Youths of Great Potential. TJ's courage seemed somewhat diminished, and for that Sora put a hand on his shoulder despite his own mounting apprehension. The woods which lined the broad walls enclosing the school grounds were eerily silent save for the occasional breath of wind which billowed through the mist. The package on Sora's back began to vibrate again, and he flipped it onto the ground, untying the binds that kept the Keyblade covered. When he lifted it into the air, he found himself being uncontrollably and speedily drawn towards the gate. So quickly, in fact, that it was all he could do to hang onto the handle of the key, his heels digging into the soil and overturning the grass. He began to mount speed faster, and faster, crying out and zooming forward until—CLANK. The Keyblade made firm contact with the center of the gate and stuck there solidly, like a magnet. Breathing hard, Sora turned back to the panicked TJ and began to say, "I think it's trying to unlo—" but the key jerked in his hand violently, twisting in a clockwise motion and nearly snapping Sora's wrist.

With a loud, resounding creak, the gate scraped opened a few inches. Sora exchanged glances with TJ, who motioned for him to go inside. Holding his breath, Sora squeezed between the gate and the stonewall it stood against. Before he could signal for TJ to do the same, the gate slammed shut behind him. "TJ!" Sora raced to the bars and held them.

"Sora, it's okay!" TJ waved, "I'll just go back to the ship, don't worry!"

"But—" Sora felt fear about continuing alone.

"You'll do great, Sora, trust me!"

"O-Okay." He backed away from the gate and gave TJ a little salute. So many people were counting on him to do this. "I'll see ya then when I'm good and legendary!" With that, he hoisted the key onto his shoulder and turned around, facing a long, winding path which faded into the fog. But how afraid he was.


	4. Chapter 4: News

The silence pressed in as thickly as the fog. With his visibility stretching only five feet in front of him, Sora was confronted with the eerie theory that everything else in the World had vanished, and he was alone in a vast blankness. Before he could stop and contemplate this, he heard a scream from up ahead. A girl! She was in trouble! Instinctively, Sora bolted towards the direction of the noise. He could barely see, tripping over mounds of earth and nearly slamming into a fence, but he vaulted over it, stumbling and gasping. He had to help her, he just _had_ to! Finally, a pair of struggling bodies appeared in his sight, a young woman pinned under—who cares?! Tackle it, tackle it! Sora hurled himself at the oppressive form, knocking it to the ground beside her. But Sora had little combat training other than his occasional boy's scuffle, and when the apparently much larger man flipped him over and restrained him in a crushing headlock, Sora squirmed but could not break free. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" the man was squeezing him tighter and tighter. "It's my round, you little brat!"

A whistle blew and Sora was released, the man allowing him to fall to the ground with a thud. "What's going on here?" a shadow approached, but never came clearly into Sora's view.

"Nothing I did, Yuffie's trying to cheat."

"What?! Am not! I've never met this kid in my life!" the girl pushed herself off the ground and into a standing position. She leaned over Sora, who had sat up dizzily, and poked him squarely in the chest. "Hey, little guy, do you even _go _here?"

"Yeah, I do," Sora responded crossly, resentful and being called out on his smaller stature. "Are you okay?"

The girl scoffed, crossing her orange, glove clad arms. "Okay? _Okay?! _I was just about to have the old Nimbus begging for mercy!"

"Be real, I had you against the ground," the young man turned to the shadow. "Master, who gets the point? I clearly had the advantage." Sora cocked his head, confused.

"Wait—so you weren't in danger?"

"The Great Ninja Yuffie, The Single White Rose of Wutai, is never in any danger she cannot escape fro—"

"Oh, can it, the instructor would've blown the whistle before I showed my true potential." The ninja winked, and gave the young man a punch in the arm.

"Don't be so dour, Cloud. Alright, professor, who gets the point?"

Before the apparent instructor could speak, another shadow came running up to him, nearly frantic.

"Professor, professor! They need you at the gate! Someone has breached school security!"

There was a collective murmur around Sora, and he came to realize as his eyes adjusted that he was surrounded by shadows of students.

"Very well," came the reply, and the professor swept off in the direction Sora had just come from. "If you will follow me, class, perhaps there is a lesson in all this." Yuffie offered a hand to Sora, and he took it, helping himself up. She gave him a saucy look, glancing up him and down, then clicked her tongue.

"No way, you're just a kid. Oh, well. You're gonna be a hottie, though." Sora flushed as she winked at him and then did a spectacular summersault to catch up with Cloud. Sora stood there a moment, trying to process all that had just happened when Yuffie looked back at him, calling, "C'_mon_, kid!"

It was at that moment that Sora realized that he was no longer in possession of the Keyblade. He looked around him quickly. "Aw, man," he mumbled, smacking himself in the head. When had he let go of it? When had it slipped out of his grip? Was it before or after he jumped the fence? Or maybe when he tackled that guy…? There he was, wandering around with this ancient relic of unknown power, and he'd LOST it. How was he going to find it in this fog, if that was even possible? Okay, he definitely didn't have it when he decked the guy—he'd used both arms to do it. Had he used both hands to lift himself over the fence? That was it! He had to have dropped it then! But which way had he come from again…?

Sighing in frustration, Sora dropped to his knees and felt along the ground for the footprints of the class in the moistened grass and crawled in the direction they pointed. As he drew nearer to the fence, the fog began to dissipate, and he stood up, walking towards it. The class had evidently walked through the entrance Sora had missed by mere feet. He also found that the fence stood between him and a vast graveyard, which explained the mounds of earth he had stumbled across. Out of respect, Sora circled around the entrance and began searching through the bushes along the fence. The Keyblade lay tangled and forgotten among the branches, and as Sora reached for it, it sent a searing heat through his fingertips, making him draw back suddenly.

"Jeez, I'm sorry," he said reproachfully, rubbing his hand, and the next time received a gentle cooling, as if his apology was accepted. He hoisted the key back onto his shoulder and made his way after the class. A lone raven watched his progress, then fluttered off in the direction he ran.

Once he arrived, it seemed that the majority of the school was gathered around the gates, bustling and whispering in hushed undertones. A tall, slender man in a black cloak fronted the crowd, inspecting the hinges while a taller, even thinner man, tapped his chin with a single, pale finger.

"Professor Skellington," the first man spoke, "I see no signs of forced entry." He had a proper, British accent and rigid way of moving about. When Sora stood on his tiptoes to see over the heads of the students, he saw that he also wore a silk top hat, and—Ack! The second professor turned around, revealing a dastardly pale face because of its complete and total lack of skin. Sora fell backwards in shock, landing on his behind and earning several judgmental looks from others around him.

"Interesting point, Mr. Laroque," replied the skeleton man thoughtfully. "I can't seem to find any traces of magic myself."

"And yet it opens on its own. I wonder…King Mickey is aware, I suppose?"

"He will be, when he arrives tonight."

"In the meantime put the school on high alert. Return the students to their dorms. We must catch this criminal and put an end to this invasion."

Criminal? Invasion? Hold on, was he not supposed to have unlocked the gate?! Sora began pushing himself forward, elbowing through the masses with "Excuse me"s and "Sorry"s, until he was able to reach near the front of the crowd. "Hey!"

The two professors glanced over their shoulders simultaneously to look at the hand bobbing in the midst of the throng. "Heyy!"

"Let her pass," the professor who had been called Laroque waved at the students to part. "Ah, beg pardon."

"I'm a boy," Sora said lamely, losing some of his enthusiasm. "And I opened the gate." The entirety of the student population went silent. Professor Laroque looked at him very coldly.

"You are the one who interrupted my training session this morning," he said quietly. "Your name?" His stare was so dark and piercing that when Sora felt the Keyblade turn frigid in his hand, he couldn't help but shudder involuntarily.

"Sora," he dropped his gaze. "Sir." There was a moment where he was tempted to insert the "master" as Merlin had advised him to, but fought the idea with a smirk.

"I don't think you quite grasp the gravity of this situation, Sora," the professor said lowly. "You have trespassed illegally into our establishment."

"And that's supposed to be impossible," added the skeleton professor, seeming more impressed than perturbed. Professor Laroque shot him a look.

"I would also like to add that since you are not enrolled here, we will have to press charges," continued the aggravated professor.

"Oh!" Sora sifted through his pockets quickly. "But I am a student here! See!" There was a murmur of suspicion.

"A student of your age hasn't been admitted since—…" Professor Laroque scanned the letter, his frown deepening. "How _did _you manage past the gate?"

Sora produced the Keyblade from where he had secured it to his back. Professor Skellington's mouth formed a perfect "Oo" and Professor Laroque raised his eyebrows. "May I inquire as to its authenticity?" he asked coolly.

"I mean, I got inside, right?" Sora shrugged, and laughed nervously. Could the Keyblade be a fake? Nah, that was impossible, he'd seen it work. But could he…?

"I say, it's proof enough for me!" Professor Skellington pumped his arm through the air. "Welcome to the School for Youths of Great Potential, Sora. Follow me and we can get you cleaned up for the presentation!"

"Presenta—Wahh!" the skeleton professor patted Sora heartily on the back, hard, and nearly knocked him over.

"Whoops! Runty little thing, aren't ya? We'll soon set you straight," a grin curled around his bare skull. "Oh, ah, may I?" He held his hands to more closely examine the Keyblade, which Sora placed in his grasp.

"Ohh, wow! The real Keyblade! The actual real Keyblade!" he exclaimed, brandishing it around so enthusiastically that several students took steps backwards. "How do I look, Erik?"

Professor Laroque did not respond, but his stern face clearly said: like a fool. Suddenly, the Keyblade began to vibrate again, rattling every bone in the professor's body. "H-h-h-h-h-here you g-g-g-g-g-g-go, my f-f-f-fellow," he said tremulously, passing it back to Sora. "I think you'll enjoy yourself here."

The student body watched him curiously, but not maliciously. Sora hoped the skeleton was right.

As the bodies moved away, Erik Laroque was left alone by the gate, his eyes narrowed. The raven, which had been circling above, landed on his right shoulder, and Erik leaned into it, obviously accustomed to its presence. "Yes, tell our Lady Maleficent the boy does, indeed, exist. He is the freshest one I've seen yet…I should have no problem with him should he disagree with her." The raven chortled in agreement, then launched itself into the air, cawing loudly in what could almost be mistaken for laughter.


	5. Chapter 5: Introduction

The juxtaposition of old and new on the campus fascinated Sora. Every building appeared to have been at one time whole, but as Professor Skellington explained, due to the school being several hundred years old, repairs were needed. This accounted for the sturdy limestone, which built up the base of most of the buildings, and then for the walls or occasionally entire rooms (removed either by the elements or intentionally) that were sheets of highly reflective chrome. A building might have several different eras of architecture adorning it; a long, swooping buttresses met with a chic panel of glass and steel, for example. Sora was lead towards a building with automatic doors (that, of course, made him leap back in surprise) and up a winding staircase on which Skellington remarked had been constructed that way to allow the higher ground advantage during sword fighting.

He continued with his hand on the boy's back through a grand ballroom, only pausing long enough for Sora to gawk at the pair of splendid chandeliers that were lit with a combination of fire, magic, and a smattering of electricity. They exited out a small, heavy wooden door in the back, behind where presumably the guests of honor would be seated. The cluttered room had a low ceiling and was illuminated by a loosely hanging light bulb and several candles. "You'll wait here until we call you out," Professor Skellington said, pulling a chair over for Sora to sit in. "Our admissions director will ask you a few questions before you get settled in. Oh, and see if you can shape up a little for the ceremony!" The professor sauntered out of the room and left Sora standing there. He folded his arms, hugging himself. Everything was moving so fast and changing radically. "I miss the island," he mumbled to himself.

The scraping of a chair made Sora jump as a girl scooted around a lounger with a back tall enough to have concealed her. "Are you from an island?" she asked abruptly, pushing her red bangs out of her face. Sora took a step back.

"Don't scare me like that!" he said crossly. "Who are you anyway?"

She chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand, and stood up. She was wearing a white tank top and lavender skirt, and her simplicity of dress made him feel more comfortable with his own plain red jumpsuit and jacket. "You're a mess," she smiled, pointing to his muddy knees. "You've got to try better than that if you want to impress everyone."

"I don't need to impress people with my clothes," Sora retorted, and the girl laughed again.

"Neither do I," she held out her arms as if to present herself. "So then you've done something amazing? You've slayed a dragon? Saved a princess or two?"

"No way, I'm just—what are you doing?" Sora made a face as she leaned in closely, inspecting him with a finger to her chin.

"You don't have a Deed and you're as young as I am. What are you doing here?"

"Hey! For your information, I'm—!" Sora motioned towards her in defiance, but she took his hand suddenly.

"I'm Kairi," she said, shaking it.

"Sora." Then it was silent while the two of them looked at each other. After a moment, Sora realized the Keyblade had been steadily heating up on his back, and went to reach for it when Kairi retracted her hand, staring at him.

"What was that warmth?"

"You felt it too?"

"Yeah," she massaged her fingers. "What was that?"

"I think it gets moods," Sora said honestly, retrieving the key from where he'd retied it to his back. Kairi inhaled sharply.

"_You're _the Keybearer?" she asked, almost accusingly, when a voice came from the other side of the door.

"No, I swear to you, there is no news of the _True _Keybearer yet. Yes, yes, we have the boy in our care. No, we will determine this for ourselves. Of _course_. Of course! Yes, I thank you very much. Good-bye. Good-bye, now." A large white rabbit pushed the door open with his back, in his arms carrying a tall stack of papers, and when Sora called, "Hey! Let me help you with that!" they went flying and scattered through the air, the rabbit clearly not expecting any company. The other two scrambled quickly to help him pick them up as the rabbit babbled, "Oh dear! Oh dearie me!" until the pile was messily reassembled. The rabbit perched himself behind a too large desk and pulled out an oversized pen.

"Name?" he prompted, and Sora blinked, exchanging looks with Kairi who gestured for him to answer.

"Uh, Sora."

"Sora…?"

"That's it."

There was some scribbling.

"Occupation?"

"Uhh…unemployed?"

"Hm…really," more scribbling. Sora made a face, feeling judged.

"And Deed?"

Sora sighed. "Look, I was trying to say, I haven't done anything yet. I just found this key and everyone went cra—"

"No Deed?" started the rabbit, putting his paws together in worry. "No Deed, but, but, but what am I to announce?"

"What do you mean 'announce'? Why isn't anyone telling me anything?" Sora was beginning to get fed up with being pushed from place to place without explanation.

"They're presenting us new students to the school," Kairi said obviously. "It's kind of a weird point for us to come in being the middle of the year."

"I'm sure you have an excuse," Sora asked sarcastically.

"Negotiations," she stuck out her tongue in response. "Don't be cranky."

"I'm not being cranky! I just want to understand what I'm supposed to do!"

"They're ready for you." The front door opened, swinging wide and letting in enough light to make the three of them flinch behind a raised hand. A drone of noise erupted from the ballroom, evidently now holding a throng of students.

"Your attention, please," came a high, but respectable voice which commanded the focus of the room. Sora's stomach dropped out. He'd heard that voice over the radio and broadcasted over the crummy TV set in Riku's home. That couldn't be his voice…? The King?

The rabbit scrambled forward, dropping to four legs to scamper through the doorway and out onto the platform. He blared a small trumpet twice, then brought out a piece of paper he'd had tucked under his paw. "Preeeeesenting, Her Rooooyal Highness, Princess Kairi of Radiant Gardens!"

Sora gaped as she skipped past him and the crowd cheered. "Returned from her recent excursions in the east!" She glanced over her shoulder and shrugged at him as if to say, 'They know me.'

"Th-then…uh, we have…we have…" the rabbit mumbled, shuffling through the papers. "Presenting: Sora." He stepped forward, and there was a collective upset when the key came into view, then immediate silence as they waited for a report of his deed. When none came, once again the hall rang with resentment at this young boy who had been admitted with no title.

"They're glaring at me," he murmured to Kairi out of the corner of his mouth, and she frowned, and pushed him in front of her.

"He's the True Keyblade master!" she announced loudly, and several students stood up from the rows of chairs, objecting. From the line of professors Erik Laroque swept towards the new students, taking them both by the shoulder and out the back door.

"It was a mistake for me to come here," Sora said miserably, and when Kairi touched his arm, he shrugged her off.

"They should have shown more respect in the presence of the king," Professor Laroque said lowly. "The students will have their penalty." He removed his top hat and reslicked his brown hair before replacing it on his head.

"In the mean time, the two of you accompany me."

((May come back and edit this later-a little rushed from returning to school))


	6. Chapter 6: First Class

The tall, dark eyed professor had a very strong grip on Sora's arm as he escorted them down the darkened hallways of the school. It didn't seem as though it was his goal to be intentionally hurtful, but Sora could tell from the hardness of his face and dark eyes that he was a firm man. "You will be assigned to a room that is separate from the others. Placing you in a dorm among the students would cause too much of an uproar at this time. Mind this key, boy. I said, take it. There. Your Highness?"

"Yes?" Kairi seemed to be struggling to keep pace with his quick stride.

"You will, of course, live in the Embassy dorm on the women's floor, you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well." He stopped suddenly in front of a small wooden door set into a metal frame, far at the end of the hallway. "My name is Professor Laroque; I am the special combat instructor here," he narrowed his eyes and glanced down at Sora. "I presume I will be seeing very much of you specifically. The Princess will explain what is expected of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, Your Grace, I must attend to the riot."

Kairi bit her lip. "They won't be unjustly punished, will they?"

"They will have their due, yes," responded the professor coldly, and Sora's head fell. "I do hope in the future, you will refrain from stirring such emotion. The both of you." With that, he inclined his head, touching the brim of his hat, and turned on his heel and left them, his dark, ankle length cloak billowing behind.

His head still bowed, Sora unlocked the door with the wrought iron key he had been handed, and pushed the door open. It was a small, plain room with a bed in the center and a desk and a small chest of drawers against either wall. Sora glanced around the room unhappily, then tossed the Keyblade across it, listening to it clank against the stone tiled floor.

"Sora?" Kairi asked softly.

"What. What do you want."

"You're upset."

"Why'd you have to go and say that, huh? You'd don't know if I'm the "True" Keybearer. You don't know anything about me."

"I can't explain it. But I feel like I know you—"

"Know me! Know me?!" he cried, turning on her. "All my life I've been nobody, an orphan, useless, a burden! What would you know about that, "Princess"? I haven't had anything to be proud of for my entire life, and now that I've actually got something that's mine—just mine—and all I want to do with it is find my parents, everyone flips out at me and yells at me for something that's not even under my control! Gah, I'm so stupid, I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place! I want—I want…" Kairi held out her arms and Sora hesitated, then fell against her miserably, his lip trembling. "I want to go home." She tightened her embrace around the boy and held him.

"You want to find your family?" Kairi asked, and Sora nodded. "I'll help you. I am the princess, after all."

"I'm sorry—I forgot," Sora jumped back quickly, then hastily added. "Your Highness." Kairi pursed her lips, and Sora waited for a tongue lashing about how the dirty little island boy didn't even recognize his own princess, but she said nothing.

"I never knew my family," Sora said honestly. "They found me on the island, alone. Riku's the closest thing I've ever had to a brother, or anything, really. But he's gone, too…"

"Are you from the islands that reported severe weather?" She set her face, and suddenly looked much older than her age.

"Yeah. Destiny Island."

"I'll begin research for refugees along the coast. We'll work out from there." Sora dropped his gaze, unable to look at her.

"Why are you doing this for me…?"

Kairi shook her head, visually hesitated, then said carefully, "Some day, you will do me a great service." Before Sora could ask for her to clarify, she had spun around and hurried out the door.

As Kairi ran down the hallway, rounding a corner, a hand shot out from the shadows and rested on her shoulder. "Your Highness," came a sultry, distinctly British voice, and Erik Laroque literally melted out of the darkness. "My Lady has a proposal for you."

"You'll be on a program called "The Guardian Track," understand?" the white rabbit was scribbling away with his giant pen as Sora sat once again in front of the cluttered desk. "You'll be registered for the "Offensive Spells" class, "Lecture on Gentlemanliness," "Weapons as Defenders" and, ah yes, "Special Combat" all on a beginners level. Do you follow?" He printed a coiling strip of paper, tore it in half, then handed it to Sora.

"This is my schedule, huh?" he recognized Professor Laroque and Skellington's names quickly, and he was half glad, half filled with trepidations. Laroque didn't seem all too impressed with him, Keyblade or no. At the same time, Sora could imagine Skellington being thrilled with his participation, and while this would be welcome, he couldn't see the students taking too kindly to any favoritism shown his way. He easily surmised this from his trek from his room to the admission's office, as biting whispers seemed to spring up whenever he walked by, or abruptly stopped as if not wanting him to hear. He was met with cold looks wherever he offered a smile, so he'd stopped trying.

"—to ensure the protection of all students. Is that clear?" Sora blinked, not realizing the rabbit had continued talking. All he could tell was that the rabbit was staring at him expectantly, holding out a paw.

"Well? Hand it over," he said insistently, frowning. It took a moment to process that he was talking about the Keyblade, and Sora looked shocked, putting a hand to it.

"No way!" he blurted, going on first instinct. He wasn't losing this thing again! And now he was sort of getting (ugh) attached to it. His long, turbulent nights had been much soothed by the presence of the Keyblade, being that every time he grew close to waking, it warmed him gently till his dreams became pleasant. The sudden noises and new creaks he had been hearing, too, were comforted by his hand clenched around this weapon.

"It is school policy to only allow students to handle practice equipment while on grounds," the rabbit said haughtily. "Give-it-to-me." The Keyblade began to heat up, and Sora took its lead.

"Okay, okay, here," he slid it across the desk, and folded his arms, leaning back. The rabbit went to reach for it, then withdrew his hand quickly, yowling.

"What's wrong?" asked Sora innocently as the key commenced with its usual shaking routine.

"Go to your first class!" ordered the rabbit, pointing towards the door. The key vaulted off the table, bringing the lamp and stacks of paper down with it, then continued leaping about the room, crashing into whatever it pleased.

"Are you sure you don't want—" The rabbit ducked as the Keyblade sailed over his head.

"OUT!" Sora put up his hands and shrugged. Fine, he'd give up the key for now. But neither of them were going to be separated without a fight.

He arrived at the class somewhat early, and saw that the room was laid out like a boxing ring with seats lining the walls. There was no ring in the center, only a slightly lowered floor. Sora scooted into one of the three metal risers and rested his elbows and head on the elongated table in front of it. He sat there until the other students came trickling in, many who looked younger, but still not quite Sora's age (who was suddenly self conscious of his inability to grow facial hair). Those who could took seats opposite to him, but as the class filled up, it became very apparent by the empty circle of seats around him that Sora was being avoided. He sighed, and stared ahead, trying not to make it too obvious that he was affected by the whole performance.

"He has such a wild temper."

"Yeah, and he grades really rough, too."

"He's also one of the most powerful mages in the realm!"

"All our professors seem to be the most powerful something…"

Sora tuned into the conversation of the three students a row back behind him.

"Who do you think is worse, him, or Laroque?"

"Oh, definitely—I smell sulfur!"

"He's coming!"

The electric lighting in the room dimmed as power was drawn towards the center of the floor. Heat waves could be seen in mounting clouds of dust, and students had to jump to catch their notebooks and writing utensils before they were pulled towards the mass of increasing energy. All at once, the bulbs went dark, and air rushed outwards laced with streaks of lightning. Something had exploded in the center of the room, and as the overheads began to blink slowly back on, in the midst of the smoke could be seen a dim outline. Sora leaned forward expectantly, filled with awe and trying to discern the form that now stood in the center of the room.

"Hewo, cwass," quacked a voice from within the swirling fog. "I am Pwofessor Donald Duck, advisor and gwand magic council to the King. Welcome to my cwass." As the smoke cleared, a large white duck stood before them, staff raised, and adorned with splendid blue robes. His keen eyes swept around the room, lingering momentarily on Sora,

"I say this because I see we have a new student. Pweased to have you join us, Master Sowa," the duck inclined his head in greeting. Sora waved sheepishly, cognizant of the bitter reaction to the title Professor Duck had bestowed on him. "Why don't you hewp me with the demonstwation today?"

"Uh, I don't really know much…" Sora drew a swirl in the air with his finger to represent magic.

The duck professor chuckled. "Don't you wowwy, this cwasswoom is deep in the core of the school. Who knows what that means?"

A girl raised her hand. "This location has a higher concentration of magic."

"And why is that?" quipped the professor. A few others raised their hands, and he pointed a feathery finger at a young man in the back. "Cwoud?" Sora recognized the fellow he had tackled earlier, who looked up.

"Heat rises but magic sinks," he said simply, then went back to resting his chin on his chest.

"Good, good," preened the professor, pleased that he could show off his class to the new student. "Pwease join me down here, Master Sowa." Sora got up and awkwardly shifted past the other students in his row until he made it down the stairs into the small arena. Immediately he felt a prickling sensation in his skin that made his hair raise.

"What a healthy mage can do is vewy diffewent from what a wizawd can do," the duck explained. "Do you know why?"

"Well, I've only ever seen a wizard once," Sora admitted. "But it was pretty cool. He pulled a tea set and a chair right out of nothing!" The classroom laughed, and Sora looked around defensively.

"Hey, what's so funny?" he asked crossly.

"Now, who can point out Sowa's mistake in terminology?" asked the professor, then selected another female in front.

"Wizard's don't conjure. They merely transform what is around them to suit their needs. He didn't make the tea set 'out of nothing,' he made it from the air."

"That's what I said," Sora said, gesturing annoyedly with his hands.

"No," corrected the girl. "You said 'out of nothing.' Air is something. And he transformed it into a solid object. Mages conjure. Using their own energies, they cast elemental spells."

"Vewy good," congratulated Professor Duck, then looked up at Sora who was fairly taller than him. "Care to give it a twy?" Sora nodded, but said nothing, afraid another stupid thing would come out of his mouth.

"Why don't we twy a simple summoning spell to begin with. What ewement is it, cwass?"

"Air," they chanted.

"That's wight! So, Master Sowa, you must concentwate on the air awound you and in your lungs. Feewl it as you bweath in and out. Weady? Move this pencil over to you." The duck professor backed a few feet away from Sora with his back to the stairs and door. Sora held out his hand, feeling stupid. Nothing moved. "Concentwate," urged Professor Duck. "Cwose your eyes, if you have to." Sora obeyed, and tried to shut out the murmurs of his classmates. He felt his lungs filling and emptying with the magically charged air which made his nose tingle. Air was stirring faster and faster at his breath, and as he clenched his hand into a fist, he knew it was coming.

But not exactly what he thought. From far away a loud crashing could be heard, and various students stood up and peeked towards the door, curious. All of a sudden, the door was splintered open by the flying Keyblade which zoomed straight towards the professor. He ducked with a loud "WAHCK!" and dove for the floor, the Keyblade smacking right into Sora's waiting hand.

The professor pushed himself up, fuming and blushing through a head of feathers. "Young man, stay after cwass."


	7. Chapter 7: Hunger

The duck professor had given Sora quite a lecture about concentration along with a sound rapping on the head with his staff. It left Sora feeling emotionally drained and rather put out. The Keyblade had been confiscated a second time to abide by school policy, and being separated once again left Sora feeling almost hollow…? Well, he was cold, at any rate, but the hollowness was beginning to gnaw at his insides in a way that could even be—grrrrrrrwwwwllllllllll—Oh. He was hungry. Of course. But where was the cafeteria, again?

Sora looked around him, confused. There were several buildings to the campus, each with their unique structure and shape. None of them seemed to have been begun with a particular plan in mind, as there were rooms jutting off of walls and hallways were sagging precariously on the outside of the original building. If Skellington hadn't told him about the school's layers of construction from over the years, he would have called the place a junk heap. Not that the campus was un-aesthetically pleasing: this particular building had the appearance of what had one time been a castle. It was Good Ole Main, as the King had named it, with swirling metal curls gliding up each edge of the walls, similarly peppered with tunnels and protruding classrooms.

He decided to try this building first, and pushed the large, bronzed doors open with both hands. It was pleasantly warm inside, and Sora shivered off the coolness of outdoors. Fall was advancing quickly, and they had made up the fire. This particular hallway was paneled with wood on its floor, walls, and ceiling, and Sora felt like he was walking in a long box with the occasional window. He came to a pair of cedar doors which were generously sized and looked promising, and put his shoulder to them.

The inside was marvelous. Even as someone who struggled with the most basic of readings, seeing wall to wall lined with volume upon volume of books was for some reason a greatly welcomed sight to Sora. He exhaled slowly, revolving at the same rate to take in all the dusty smells of old papers. It was as if he could feel the stories and memories behind the words that came to him with such difficulty. Sora put out his arms and closed his eyes, pleased with his aloneness with the hearts of so many authors, when—grrrRRRRRRRrrrwwl! He dropped a hand to his stomach. No food here. Better to lea—

"I hear you, cranky bear, don't you know libraries are supposed to be a quiet place?" Sora gave a start, then relaxed.

"Oh, it's only you, Kairi."

"Oh, it's _oooonly_ Kairi, no 'It's nice to see you, m'lady!' or 'How are you doing, my only friend in the school?" she rolled her eyes dramatically, and Sora got into a defensive stance.

"You're not my _only _friend!" he said heatedly, "I've got—I've got—" but Kairi waved it away, winking.

"Never you mind," she looked back down at the charts and maps she had scattered over the tabletop. "I'm busy." Sora cooled down, feeling a bit guilty for jumping at her so quickly.

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously, walking towards her and seating himself on her desk. Kairi transferred her pen to her mouth and squinted at map.

"I'm hunting," she said through her gritted teeth.

"For what?"

"Important things. Lost things. Treasures." She leaned her head on one arm and smiled up at him. "You've already forgotten, haven't you?"

"No," he said stubbornly. "What have I forgotten?"

"That's I'm the princess and I have to learn all about the land I am going to rule some day," she rolled her eyes again, but seemed somehow pleased. "And there's a _lot _to learn. About everything."

His stomach began to gurgle loudly again, and Kairi laughed. "You might want to get that fixed," she teased. "It's the second building to the left of this one. It has a baroque era repair which looks like a chicken." It was odd that Sora actually felt disappointed that she was sending him off. He wouldn't have minded talking longer abou—gRRRRRRWWWWlllll!

"Alright, alright, I'm going," he muttered to his stomach. "Hey, thanks, Kairi." She looked about to speak, then caught herself. Now there were several onlookers from different parts of the library, judgmental but curious about the princess' interaction. Her expression turned bored and she shrugged and nodded, returning to her work. There was something hurtful about this dismissal that Sora couldn't identify; all he knew as he walked away was the library was definitely warmer than it was outside. Must be near the boiler room.

Sora wasn't exactly sure what 'baroque era' architecture implied, but when he passed the building with an ornate stone pillars which were carved with what was presumably at one time a dragon (but now, due to weathering, resembled poultry), he guessed he had found the right building.

The smell was incredible. Meats stewing in rich, creamy broths, fresh baked bread and wonderful, wonderful sweet rolls wafted through the air, taunting Sora to come forth and feast. He shuffled forward, as if in a dream, until he was rudely awaken by the whapping of his shins. Cursing, and clutching his leg, Sora looked down and was greeted by a small white figure with a fuzzy red pompom dangling on his head, a large red nose, bat wings and a tiny chef's hat. "Watch where you're walking, kupo!" he scolded, waving a wooden spoon which he wielded with spite. "Now pay up!"

"Pay?" Sora complained sorely. "Pay for what?"

"The meal, kupo! One-fifty munny for all you can eat!"

"What?! Are you kidding me, the meals cost munny?!"

The creature jabbed Sora in the stomach with his spoon. "We moogles don't work for free, y'know!" he said seriously, then flicked Sora in the nose when he looked down. As Sora clutched his face in pain, the moogle murmured, "What does he take us for, kupo?"

With that, Sora was turned away from the enticing aroma of goodies nearly starving and empty-handed. Was everyone at this school rich, or something? At least, they could shuck out the price of a meal any time they wanted when Sora didn't even have the money for the tuition: that was coming from Merlin. His now ravenous stomach was unrelenting in its torment, and Sora rushed back to the library, bursting through the cedar doors and back to the table where Kairi was still attending her maps, quietly.

"Kairi! Where did you—"

"Shh!" she hushed him, giving him an incredulous look. "Quiet, Sora! What is it?"

"The treasure. Where did you say it was? I'm going after it. Now."

"Don't you have another class—"

"Not till tomorrow—Look, I need you to help me with this! Where's the most treasure in the entire World?"

She looked at him strangely, then sifted through the charts. "Above ground or below it?"

_Dear TJ,_

_ I know it hasn't been too long since we've spoken but I'd like to ask you to help me with something that I can't do on my own because I need the Gummy ship that you drive and you to be the driver. I need to go to Agrabah. (Bring lunch)_

_Sora_


End file.
